Ance crowdie, twice crowdie,

Three times crowdie in a day;
Gin ye crowdie ony mair,

Ye'll crowdie a' my meal away.

THE BLUDE-RED ROSE AT YULE MAY BLAW.

TUNE-To daunton me.

THE blude-red rose at Yule may blaw,

The simmer lillies bloom in snaw,
The frost may freeze the deepest sea;

But an auld man shall never daunton me.

To daunton me, and me so young,

blood, Christmas, snow [blow

subdue

Wi' his fause heart and flatt'ring tongue
That is the thing you ne'er shall see :

false

For an auld man shall never daunton me.

For a' his meal and a' his maut,
For a' his fresh beef and his saut,
For a' his gold and white monie,

An auld man shall never daunton me.

His gear may buy him kye and yowes,
His gear may buy him glens and knowes;
But me he shall not buy nor fee,

malt

salt

money

wealth, cows, ewes

hills

For an auld man shall never daunton me.

He hirples twa-fauld as he dow,

limps, double, can

Wi'his teethless gab and his auld beld pow,

mouth, bald head

And the rain rins down from his red bleer'd ee-
That auld man shall never daunton me.

eye

old

CASSILLIS' BANKS.

Now bank and brae are claith'd in green,
And scatter'd cowslips sweetly spring;

clothed

By Girvan's fairy-haunted stream
The birdies flit on wanton wing.

To Cassillis' banks when e'ening fa's,
There wi' my Mary let me flee,
There catch her ilka glance of love,
The bonnie blink o' Mary's ee!

The chield wha boasts o' warld's wealth
Is aften laird o' meikle care;

But Mary she is a' my ain

Ah! Fortune canna gie me mair,

Then let me range by Cassillis' banks,
Wi' her, the lassie dear to me,

And catch her ilka glance o' love,

The bonnie blink o' Mary's ee!

every eye

who, world's often, much Own

cannot, give, more

HUNTING SONG.

TUNE-I red you beware at the Hunting.

THE heather was blooming, the meadows were mawn,
Our lads gaed a hunting ane day at the dawn,
Owre moors and owre mosses and mony a glen,
At length they discovered a bonny moor-hen.

I red you beware at the hunting, young men ;
I red you beware at the hunting, young men ;
Tak some on the wing, and some as they spring,
But cannily steal on a bonnie moor-hen.

Sweet brushing the dew from the brown heather-bells,
Her colours betray'd her on yon mossy fells;
Her plumage out-lustered the pride o' the spring,
And oh! as she wantonèd gay on the wing.
I red you beware, &c.

Auld Phoebus himsel, as he peep'd o'er the hill,
In spite, at her plumage he tried his skill;

He levell'd his rays where she bask'd on the brae-
His rays were outshone, and but mark'd where she lay.
I red you beware, &c.

They hunted the valley, they hunted the hill;
The best of our lads wi' the best o' their skill;
But still as the fairest she sat in their sight,
Then, whirr! she was over a mile at a flight.
I red you beware, &c.

HEY, THE DUSTY MILLER.

TUNE-The Dusty Miller.

HEY, the dusty miller,

And his dusty coat;

He will win a shilling,

mowed went, one

over

warn

quietly

hills

Or he spend a groat.

Dusty was the coat,

before

from

blessings

money would give

hang

How sweet unto that breast to cling,
And round that neck entwine her!
Her lips are roses wat wi' dew,
Oh, what a feast her bonnie mou'!
Her cheeks a mair celestial hue,
A crimson still diviner.

RATTLIN' ROARIN' WILLIE.

TUNE-Rattlin' Roarin' Willie.

OH, rattlin' roarin' Willie,

Oh, he held to the fair,
And for to sell his fiddle,
And buy some other ware;
But parting wi' his fiddle,

The saut tear blin't his ee;
And rattlin' roarin' Willie,

Ye're welcome hame to me!

Oh Willie, come sell your fiddle,
Oh sell your fiddle sae fine;

Oh Willie, come sell your fiddle,
And buy a pint o' wine.

wet

mouth

more

went

salt, eye

home

If I should sell my fiddle,

The warl would think I was mad;

world

MY LOVE SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET.

TUNE-Lady Badinscoth's Reel.
My love she's but a lassie yet,
My love she's but a lassie yet;
We'll let her stand a year or twa,
She'll no be half sae saucy yet.
I rue the day I sought her, O,

I rue the day I sought her, O;
Wha gets her needs na say she's woo'd,
But he may say he's bought her, O!
Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet,
Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet;
Gae seek for pleasure where ye will,
But here I never miss'd it yet.
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't,

We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;

The minister kiss'd the fiddler's wife,

And couldna preach for thinking o't.

EPPIE ADAIR.

TUNE-My Eppie.

AND oh! my Eppie,
My jewel, my Eppie
Wha wadna he happy
Wi' Eppie Adair?
By love, and by beauty,
By law, and by duty,
I swear to be true to
My Eppie Adair!
And oh my Eppie,
My jewel, my Eppie,
Wha wadna be happy
Wi' Eppie Adair?
A' pleasure exile me,
Dishonour defile me,
If e'er I beguile thee,
My Eppie Adair!

who would not

THERE'S A YOUTH IN THIS CITY.

To a Gaelic Air.

THERE'S a youth in this city, it were a great pity
That he frae our lasses should wander awa;
For he's bonnie and braw, weel-favoured and a',
And his hair has a natural buckle and a'.
His coat is the hue of his bonnet sae blue;

His fecket is white as the new-driven snaw;
His hose they are blae, and his shoon like the slae,
And his clear siller buckles they dazzle us a'.

from, away well

80

waistcoat, snow blue, shoes, sloe silver

[dower'd

well

money, makes, [go farm,

For beauty and fortune the laddie's been courtin';
Weel-featured, weel-tocher'd, weel-mounted, and braw;
But chiefly the siller, that gars him gang till her,
The penny's the jewel that beautifies a'.
There's Meg wi' the mailen, that fain wad a-haen him ;
And Susie, whose daddy was laird o' the ha';
There's lang-tocher'd Nancy maist fetters his fancy-
But the laddie's dear sel' he loes dearest of a'.

[would, taken

THENIEL MENZIES' BONNIE MARY,
TUNE-The Ruffian's Rant.

IN coming by the brig o' Dye,
At Darlet we a blink did tarry;

As day was dawin in the sky,
We drank a health to bonnie Mary.
Theniel Menzies' bonnie Mary;

Theniel Menzies' bonnie Mary;
Charlie Gregor tint his plaidie,
Kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary.

Her een sae bright, her brow sae white,
Her haffet locks as brown's a berry;
And aye they dimpl't wi' a smile,
The rosy cheeks o' bonnie Mary.
We lap and danced the lee-lang day,
Till piper lads were wae and weary,
But Charlie gat the spring to pay,
For kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary.

almost

loves

bridge moment dawning

lost

eyes so cheek

leapt, live-long

sorry got, music

COME BOAT ME O'ER TO CHARLIE.

TUNE-O'er the Water to Charlie.

COME boat me o'er, come row me o'er,
Come boat me o'er to Charlie;

To boat me o'er to Charlie.

halfpenny

I'll gie John Ross another bawbee,

We'll o'er the water and o'er the sea,

We'll o'er the water to Charlie;

Come weal, come woe, we'll gather and go,

And live or die wi' Charlie.